Four People Who Already Knew About Laura Barton
by Funky In Fishnet
Summary: Turns out, before the Avengers met Laura Barton, a certain select few that Clint Barton worked with knew about her all along. It's how a safehouse works.


_**Disclaimer:** I own nothing._

 _ **Author Note:** Set before and after 'The Avengers: Age of Ultron', spoiler alert._

* * *

 **FOUR PEOPLE WHO ALREADY KNEW ABOUT LAURA BARTON**

 **1\. Nick Fury**

The first demand Clint Barton made after his initial conversation with Phil Coulson was to meet the boss, the actual boss, the one who ran the show. Coulson made a call and Barton was taken to a secure location – someplace isolated, suitably dark and atmospheric. Barton hadn't officially signed on to become a SHIELD agent yet and they needed to keep his status under wraps for as long as possible. He could be a difference maker and one of the most powerful weapons he would have would be his anonymity.

So Nick waited for him and there was Barton, as scruffy as described, a hunted look about him that he probably thought he was hiding, a look had kept him alive this long. There was a keenness to the way he moved, definitely not military but highly-trained. A circus would do that to you. He was also focusing his gaze on where Nick was currently standing, supposedly hidden from view. So his eyesight was as good as hoped for for someone so reliant on sighting and aim.

Coulson was there too but he stayed back, giving Nick space and Barton an illusion of leverage and privacy, though seeing as Barton had clocked Nick, he'd almost certainly realized that Coulson hadn't stayed in the car. Nick stepped forward audibly; Barton turned sharply, his hand going to his belt. He didn't carry a gun; Coulson had already talked up the bow and arrows side of things. An archaic weapon of choice in a greedily cutting-edge world. That was what Coulson really liked about this Barton idea, no doubt.

"You have something to say to me?" Nick asked, because they weren't going to get anywhere with endless gloomy silence.

Barton stared at him. Nick stared back, deliberately relaxed. He wasn't actually alone after all. Despite what the rumors claimed, he wasn't suicidal; he had too much left to do. Barton had probably twigged the extra company, maybe he was waiting to use them to show off.

Either way, Nick didn't have the time, "Barton."

Barton didn't straighten out but he did start talking.

"I need a guarantee."

Nick's left eyebrow rose, was this about money? Coulson's research hadn't brought up any extravagant sides to Clint Barton.

Barton clarified, "My wife."

That hadn't come up in Coulson's research either. Barton smirked slightly at whatever he saw happening on Nick's face.

"You're hiring me for a reason, right?"

"Apparently."

Barton grinned, though there was steel under it. This was his sticking point. Nick knew all about Barton's deadbeat brother and the mentor who'd nearly killed Barton. But a wife. That was news.

"She needs to be safe."

It was a demand not a question. It wouldn't be the first time someone had gone to Nick with that kind of demand either. The carnie had a wife, he wasn't giving up any more information yet but he was clearly serious about sticking with SHIELD if he'd given up the fact that he had a wife in the first place.

Nick had been given more complicated demands before. "She'd get a safehouse and you wouldn't get to see her all that much. I can't guarantee her your safety."

"I get to vet the safehouse."

Barton was laser-focused. He could be claiming a wife just to see how far SHIELD would dance to his tune but Nick had good eyesight to, what was left of it, and he knew a man with a real cause when he saw one..

"Then we have a deal."

* * *

 **2\. Phil Coulson**

Phil always tried to call before turning up but that wasn't always possible. Laura knew that and told him he was welcome there anytime. According to her, the kids always wanted to see him.

Phil didn't know about that, they did seem to like clattering into him while talking over each other. They reminded him of the nieces he didn't see enough of, monthly if he was ruthless and Fury pushed for it. These children though, Clint's children, children of a SHIELD agent, they were miraculous and they didn't know it. The farm was as close to idyllic as any superhero was likely to get – good land, happy wife and kids. Clint knew how lucky he was, all he asked for was time with them when possible. Phil wasn't always able to oblige him; both Clint and Laura knew that. The time-compression-communication-blackout that was universal when on mission plus constant threat of never seeing each other or seeing each other seriously changed were why marriage had never been a SHIELD staple.

Laura handed Phil a cup of coffee, "So how're things going with the cellist?"

"There's a concert tomorrow night. I actually have a ticket this time."

"SHIELD crisis-dependant."

Phil nodded, Laura knew all about that. If she was resentful, Phil never saw it. Resigned, sure, but that was a preferable reaction. Phil understood it too, he would have understood resentment. He was sure that Clint would have too.

But here was Laura, effectively running the farm, looking after the children. Phil happened to know that this wasn't her first farm and that a shotgun was frequently needed when taking care of land like this. She also made the best pies Phil had ever tasted, sweet or savory. Clint was exceptionally smug about that. Phil sometimes took slices with him when he saw his sister and nieces. He might not always correct them when they thanked him for his baking. Clint was smug about that too.

"So what's she going to play this time?"

Phil sipped his coffee and smiled. There was never any point talking to Fury about classical music and Clint's taste was stuck in Eighties hair bands. Laura knew most of the words to the songs Clint listened to and was unashamed about that because, she claimed, her taste was universal. People expected her to be focused on Nashville but she knew what Phil was talking about and clearly liked having someone available to talk that kind of music with. Phil was glad to talk to her about it too.

* * *

 **3\. Natasha Romanoff**

Clint Barton was a surprise. The fact that Laura Barton existed was an even bigger one.

Natasha told Barton he was a deliberate fool. Their work meant personal isolation, otherwise the red in his ledger was going to render him useless. He wouldn't be able to save them or hide them forever. They would be used against him.

Clint claimed that only Director Fury and Agent Coulson knew about Laura and then later on about the kids. Natasha hadn't found any evidence that he was wrong. He'd also told her. Again, he was a fool.

Laura was pleasant and friendly; she didn't let Clint get away with much though – when he was home, he always did his share. She welcomed Natasha in, Natasha was sure Clint hadn't been honest about what Natasha was. An understandable lie, another indication that his marriage was unlikely to last.

"How many weapons are you carrying?" Laura asked her one day, during one of Natasha's early visits to the farm.

Clint had dragged her there, telling her that they both needed to get away from SHIELD and the people in it. Natasha and Clint were classed as specialists, which meant they often got the missions no one else did. How could someone already soaked with blood be sullied by missions that would change someone else forever? Natasha understood, it was the kind of work that had been her life until she had met Yasha, until she had met Clint.

Now she was sat in the Bartons' kitchen as Clint played with his oldest and Laura, visibly pregnant, made dinner.

Laura's gaze was curious, not judgmental. Natasha stared back, was this a test? If Laura was an agent, she was among the best Natasha had ever met at deep cover. Laura's smile was gentle though.

"None your son will find," Natasha replied, because a denial would be foolish as Laura clearly knew she was carrying already.

"How many?"

Laura's smile broadened and she continued before Natasha could reply, "The first time I met Clint, he had seven knives on him, some kind of sling-shot, and a long-bow and arrows. He was carrying light that day."

Natasha's mouth twitched. Laura sounded nostalgic as she seasoned the meat she was preparing. Clint hadn't spoken much about his youth or how he and Laura had first met and dated. Natasha had wondered, she knew there were no records at SHIELD.

"He keeps trying to teach me how to use a bow. There's a lot to choose from but I'm terrible with all of them," Laura continued conversationally. "I can throw a knife though. I'll hit the target too."

That didn't sound like a threat. Natasha didn't shift her weight; her eyes didn't track the knife that Laura was currently using on the dinner joint.

"We don't let Aaron near any of them but Clint's teaching him how to spot what someone's carrying. It's a game but it's not."

Natasha had been taught similar lessons as a child but they had never been games. Natasha had thought that the farm, Laura, that they were a haven for Clint. Why bring SHIELD, that world, in here? Why try to protect them at all if weapons were going to be part of it? She didn't understand.

Laura finished her prep and slid the tray of meat into the oven and shut the door. She wiped her hands clean.

"Clint hasn't told me everything, he said you didn't have a childhood and that you were raised to be what you are, what he is too, out there. And I know he carries it with him here as well. It's why Aaron's learning, it's why I know things most moms don't."

This sounded like a confession, a confidence. Natasha was trained to extract those. But not here, not from Clint's wife who shouldn't exist. Maybe this would explain why she did. Natasha didn't stop her.

"Thank you, for the scar on his wrist. It means he's here and that he can still work with his hands."

Gratitude was not something Natasha handled often. She settled for a nod. Laura smiled slightly in response. "Clint trusts you, you keep him safe."

That could almost be an order. Laura's expression was trained on Natasha, expectant and not hard but prepared. What had she experienced to bring her to this, and to that order? Natasha had come to trust Clint and Agent Coulson. Laura was an unknown, she was a liability, a foolish anchor. But Clint valued her enough to hide her, and Coulson hadn't stopped him. During those early years, Natasha didn't stop watching her, assessing her.

Dinner was delicious. It almost always was.

* * *

 **4\. Darcy Lewis**

"Is this the machine shop?"

Darcy felt like she was being launched into the kind of spy shit that Clint and Natasha never told her about and Tony always sniped on about all the time. She always thought she'd get a thrill out of it if she ever got to be part of it. Instead, she felt scared and worried because she hadn't seen Clint for over a week, though a burst of very terse communication had been received that day from his missing group. They weren't completely fine yet though, right, of course.

Before he'd left for the mission, Clint had given Darcy very private instructions, telling her that there was someone she needed to call by a certain date if he wasn't back, there were different instructions for if he was heard from by then and for if he wasn't. Okay...

There was a ready female voice on the other end, "It is, is this about the Carson order?"

Oh good, okay, Darcy's call was expected. She breathed out a little and checked the note that Clint had given her, clearing her throat. Okay.

"Yes, there's going to be a delay in the pick-up but don't worry, you don't have to reorder anything."

There was a beat and then the female voice said warmly, "Thanks for letting me know. We'll be waiting."

Huh. Not how Natasha would have exchanged a super-spy message. This was more like, someone who was worried too? Someone who cared about Clint. More than one someone if there was a 'we.'

"Thank you."

Darcy quickly hung up before she said anything that ruined whatever system Clint had set up. When Clint got back, battered and with particular damage to his ribs, Darcy told him casually,

"Took care of that call for you."

Clint smiled, looking genuinely grateful, not his usual easy smirk, which was totally a mask. Darcy had gone to college, she knew a guy mask when she saw one.

"Thanks, Darce."

"You've been making calls for Robin Hood?" Tony swooped in at the point, his ears always primed for gossip. "Or have you been waiting on his call? Pining for him?"

Darcy could see how Clint's mask whipped right into place. She quickly grinned and patted Clint's hand, "Yep, lots of pining. Definitely pining. Acres."

Clint snorted and Tony looked between them, clearly unconvinced now. Clint spoke up now, "I had to check in for a cover. Didn't want to blow it so Darcy stepped in."

Tony raised his eyebrows, "And she was convincing."

Darcy frowned, stung, "Hey, I can be convincing."

Later, she cornered Clint in a lab area. Well, he was in one of the crawl spaces, on guard duty in his own way. Darcy knew his overhead routes now and positioned herself beneath where she knew he was currently situated. She'd tested his hearing out before, for science and because she'd been pretty sure he'd been asleep up there. Only he really had been awake and had been able to hear her fine if she'd talked out of the side of her mouth. So she tried it again now, as she worked through a sheaf of Eric's latest data.

"So who was I contacting really? Because she cared, in a very non-agent kind of way."

There was a tiny noise that Clint totally did deliberately so that she knew he was listening, "If she cares, my cover's working."

Darcy shook her head, highlighting a line in bright orange. That didn't look right. "Who was she? Why did I lie to Iron Man for you?"

"He's never lied to you?"

Darcy considered throwing a highlighter up into the crawlspace, "Lies weren't a great call in SHIELD last time, okay? And I really don't like lying to the Avengers. So if you want me to make that call again and lie to Tony _again_ , you'll tell me who she is. Unless you've got someone else lined up to take over?"

That got a heavy pause, so apparently Clint had given Darcy a duty that he didn't want to give to anyone else. Wow. Sweet. His next words were deliberate and weighty, so she knew it was important.

"My wife."

Darcy almost dropped the highlighter but just about kept hold of it. No one was bothering to pay any attention to her in the lab. Okay, she had this. Clint had a wife and Darcy had spoken to her. Tony definitely didn't know about her – he would have teased Clint about it. Did any of the others know? Was Darcy the only one who knew? No way...

"Natasha?" she said suddenly, remembering in time to stay quiet.

"She knows," agreed Clint. "Coulson. Fury."

"And me," Darcy tried out slowly, the momentousness of that information sinking in.

"And you."

Darcy stared down at the pages of Erik's data, her mind spinning. Clint had a wife, secret agent Clint had a wife and Darcy was allowed to know that. She'd spoken to her.

"Darce."

Right, Clint wanted to talk to her. "I'm allowed to know this, right?"

There was a soft chuckle, "Yeah. I'd appreciate it if you kept quiet about it. It's kinda the point."

"She's a secret."

Because Clint was a secret agent and this was SHIELD and God, if any of the SHIELD/Hydra agents had known about her...right, secrecy was a good thing. Darcy nodded. She could do this.

"Thanks, Darce."

So Darcy ended up calling Clint's wife whenever Clint was away and probably because Natasha or Coulson weren't available, or just to mix things up and not to establish any kind of pattern. She sounded, nice, warm, worried, of course. Glad to hear Darcy's voice. Darcy got glad to hear her voice too, it was like a marker sometimes, a good one, because there was someone out there worried too and they could be worried together, through some very plain sparse words but it was good to hear and exchange. Darcy found that anyway.

Sometimes she had to deliver messages that coincided with Clint getting injured or worse but Clint's wife always said thank you. Maybe knowing was better than not knowing. Darcy wasn't sure, sometimes she hated knowing her friends were hurt.

Clint was always grateful and Natasha's gaze followed Darcy a bit more and Coulson told her that she was doing good work. At least he stayed away from her iPod now. When Jane or Erik asked what Darcy was doing when she made a call, she told them she was maintaining one of Clint's covers, SHIELD stuff. Jane had frowned, actually focused on Darcy's words for once.

"Do you have high enough clearance for that?"

Huh. Darcy shrugged, "Apparently."

Awesome.

Way later, when Ultron finished crushing Sokovia and there was a funeral for someone Darcy had never met because she and Jane had been abroad doing the science conference thing again, Clint, clearly weary but with that sparkle still in his eyes, thank God, turned to her.

"C'mon, Laura can't wait to see you, Darce."

Laura. Clint waggled his cellphone at her and...oh! Laura. Finally she had a name. Darcy grinned, giddy maybe because of the jetlag she was still shaking off along with the strange awkwardness of the funeral and she was going to finally meet Clint's wife and Tony was looking totally poleaxed and the others more confused.

"I can't wait to see her too."

So it turned out none of the Avengers had known that Clint had a wife and kids (yep, there was kids with one more on the way. Amazing, Clint was a dad) until Clint had had to use his home as a safehouse for them during the whole Ultron disaster. Now, he clearly needed a little bit of relief, release and fun, obviously everyone did, and Darcy went with and it was an actual farm and there were two adorable happy kids, shouting for their dad and there was a very pregnant lady with long brown hair and a sort of flowy top and old jeans, wearing workboots and a huge warm smile.

"Darcy."

Darcy's grin hadn't stopped, her mind whirling all over again, "So, um, how's the machine shop?"

Laura laughed, her eyes crinkling at the corners, and she leaned close to Darcy, "Thank you, for the calls."

Darcy leaned into the weird shape of a pregnant-lady-hug, feeling a bit of the joy that Clint had been looking for here, no doubt, "Thanks for listening."

 _-the end_


End file.
